(Neither by service nor fee

Come I to mine estateMother of Cities to me,

For I was born in her gate, Between the palms and the sea, Where the world-end steamers wait.)

Now for this debt I owe,

And for her far-borne cheer

Must I make haste and go
With tribute to her pier.

And she shall touch and remit
After the use of kings
(Orderly, ancient, fit

My deep-sea plunderings,
And purchase in all lands.
And this we do for a sign
Her power is over mine,

And mine I hold at her hands.

THE SEVEN SEAS

UNIV. OF

A SONG OF THE ENGLISH.

Fair is our lot-O goodly is our heritage! (Humble ye, my people, and be fearful in your mirth!)

For the Lord our God Most High

He hath made the deep as dry,

He hath smote for us a pathway to the ends of all the Earth!

Yea, though we sinned—and our rulers went from righteousness

Deep in all dishonour though we stained our garments' hem.

Oh be ye not dismayed,

Though we stumbled and we strayed.

We were led by evil counsellors-the Lord shall deal with them.

Hold ye the Faith the Faith our Fathers sealed us;

Whoring not with visions-overwise and overstale.